


Swift Wing and Searing Flame

by RascallyRose



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Non-Human Genitalia, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, no beta depression is going to kill me the hard way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RascallyRose/pseuds/RascallyRose
Summary: Legend tells of a mighty dragon that demanded the flesh of young maidens in exchange for unimaginable power. So it was that the last Adrestian princess was summoned to satisfy the dragon's hunger. So too do the legends speak of a mighty warrior tempered in the heat of dragon fire and riding the great beast in her liberation of Fodlan's people.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76
Collections: Edeleth Big Bang 2020





	Swift Wing and Searing Flame

Red light bathed the Adrestian countryside. A small procession of carriages followed the road towards the mountains. The trees, long stripped of their leaves by the winds of the Pegasus Moon, bared their branches at the sky. The wind whipping them occasionally into a fever pitch until they looked desperate and starving.

Edelgard glowered out the carriage window. This was not the revolution she had planned, not the way she had intended to help her people. 

“At least try not to look so dour,” her uncle, Lord Arundel, sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this wasn’t the role I had planned for you either.”

“How comforting,” Edelgard sneered back, not bothering to look his way.

“They could at least have had the decency to marry you off to some noble lord,” he bit back, “at least then you might have popped out a few royal brats before your use was exhausted.”

Edelgard clenched her fist, the fabric of her glove groaning under her grip while her face betrayed only mild annoyance.

For the last century, the Adrestian empire had prospered under the blessing of the black dragon. A drake that inspired both fear and reverence in equal measure. Multitudes of offerings were carted to the mountains lining Hresvelg territory, but but none were more important than the dragon's bride.

Edelgard scoffed at the thought. Such a pretty phrase for such a dreadful role. For all the pretty words and symbolic offerings, the bride was but a glorified human sacrifice. A sweet morsel to curb the dragon’s appetite for another year, several if they were lucky. 

She hadn’t expected to be chosen, demanded rather by the infernal beast. The whole procession a mockery of what a real wedding should have looked like. Dozens of maids fussing over her dress and her hair in near silence. Gifts and riches being piled onto carts to be offered with her to her future “spouse.” And her father, far too frail to see her off properly, handing her off to the care of her uncle with a sorrowful look.

That was the part that had almost broken her. The look in her father’s eyes before Duke Aegir had spoken some empty platitudes about valor and bravery. Words that she wished she could make him choke on.

But they were far beyond that now. Her funeral procession nearing the mountains, their dark peaks stained with the crimson of the setting sun. She idly wondered if it would look the same when the dragon’s fangs pierced her flesh, rich crimson against it’s void black scales. The jagged ridges drew ever closer and for a moment she imagined that it might be the beasts gaping maw drawing near.

“You may as well rest,” Arundel’s voice cut her thoughts more surly than any knife making her flinch, “it’s not like staring will make this any easier.”

“I prefer the company of my thoughts,” Edelgard replied curtly, but closed her eyes all the same.

She listened to the creak of the carriage, felt the thud of the horses hooves and the turn of rumble of the wheels as they traversed the uneven terrain. The motion of the road lulled her until her thoughts grew slow and sleep pulled her in like a drowning sailor into the dark depths of the ocean.

* * *

Darkness enveloped her, silent and imposing. Edelgard looked around, not nervous, but unwilling to trust her alien surroundings. She tried to move only to stumble forward as something cold and hard caught against her ankle. 

She looked down, a choked gasp escaping her lips. A pale hand gripped her ankle, a gaunt face pulling up from the ground, shadow sloughing away from it’s sunken eyes in a thick ooze.

Edelgard tried to scramble away only to feel a similar grip seize her other leg. Soon more skeletal hands and sunken faces were piercing their way through the viscous substance that supported her.

She tried to cry out, to scream. Her limbs felt as lead and her voice choked, as if all the air was being forced from her lungs. Hands gripped her arms, her torso, even her face now. She writhed with what little strength she could, but their grip was iron. Tears streamed hot down her face, she didn’t want to die.

Light washed over her then, warm and familiar.

She opened her eyes, a hand waited for her, that familiarity emanating from it.

Edelgard reached for that hand.

* * *

“Your majesty.”

Edelgard woke with a start. The coachman flinched, pulling his hand away as if he had been burned.

“Pardon me your highness,” he started again apologetically, “they’ve finished preparations, you’re needed at the altar.”

“My apologies,” she sighed, fighting the urge to run a hand through her hair and instead opting to move her veil into place, “I didn’t mean to doze off.”

The coach man smiled sympathetically, offering his hand which she took gratefully. He helped her from the carriage and onto a lengthy rug that she could only assume they had carried with them. The dark red material stretched from her to the stone altar at her destination. So lavish and so utterly ridiculous she had to remind herself not to outwardly scoff.

“Edelgard,” Her uncle called, not bothering to look up from the rite he was finishing, a small fire blazing before him, “do come here, it’s almost time.”

She frowned, moving as ordered in spite of her annoyance. It occurred to her as she made her way to the altar, they hadn’t discussed this part. Was she to kneel, to wait for her husband, head bowed and eyes averted. There wasn’t much more time to think as she stopped before the stone slab.

For the first time she glanced at her surroundings. The carpet had been rolled out obviously, but her retinue had been busy indeed. Guards and coachmen had detached her dowry and positioned the carts on either side of the dais. Much of the snow that covered the peak had been cleared away to accommodate these changes. Several fires had been lit and the men gathered around them eagerly, warming themselves against the frigid mountain air.

“On the altar please,” Arundel said, catching Edelgard in an irritated stare.

She stared back dumbly for a moment, glancing at the stone structure and then back again.

“Surely you’re joking,” She huffed incredulously. The withering look he responded with was more than enough answer, “very well.”

With as much dignity as she could muster, the crown princess of Adrestia climbed unto the stone.

“Lie back, as if you were soon to sleep,” Arundel instructed blandly.

Again, she cast him a doubtful look and again she was met with reproach. So with a sigh, she laid back. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but she felt heat flare as Arundel added something to the fire he had been tending. Blue light painted the clouds.

“Dragon,” he bellowed to the sky, “we have done as you have commanded, we have brought you your bride,”

For a long moment, there was nothing. Wind howled sharply over the peaks, a harsh mockery. And in that moment, Edelgard wondered if it was some elaborate hoax.

Then she felt something, a strange feeling in her chest. Reaching and pulling as if her very heart was straining to reach this nearing presence. Something large and dark cut through the clouds. Huge wings beating, a low rumbling growl, and a great thud.

  
Edelgard squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see.

In her willful darkness, she could hear the scrape of claws and the dragging of a great tail over the old stone.

“ _ Don’t be afraid _ ”

The voice was rough, but feminine and deep within her mind.

Edelgard opened her eyes in shock, only to be met with the massive snout of the black dragon. It’s head dwarfed her easily, the deep blue of it’s eyes seeming to dissect her. It’s dark scales glittered in the fire light. It was terrifying.

It was beautiful.

In spite of herself, Edelgard reached out, the dragon meeting her half way. It’s snout pressing against her palm far more gently than she had expected.

It pulled away just as suddenly, it’s vibrant eyes sweeping the procession.

“This is acceptable,” it’s deep voice rumbled, “you may go.”

“As you wish,” Arundel bowed, snuffing the ritual flame.

The men didn’t need any more invitation, hastily snuffing their campfires and piling on the the remaining wagons.

The dragon watched them leave impassively until the last of their train had disappeared down the path. The clatter of hooves and wheels receding into the night.

Only then did the dragon reaffix it’s gaze on the princess. Edelgard felt her breath catch, terror welling in her chest.

This was it, they were alone and she was about to become it’s meal.

Large claws cupped her from either side. They slipped under her, careful not to snag her gown. That large maw came close again and she squeezed her eyes shut against the impending pain.

“Shall we go home princess?”

Edelgard cracked an eye, glancing at the great serpent. She was far from adept at reading the creature, but it looked concerned?

“Home?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to incur the beast wrath adding, “my lord.”

“It was a rhetorical question,” the dragon chuckled, “I’ll show you, but I need you to climb on my back.”

It was an odd request from someone who intended to eat her, but Edelgard complied. She crawled from it’s hand, which it had retracted to its shoulder, and settled herself between it’s large wings. She wrapped her arms around its neck as it sauntered to the carts of treasure and various edible or potable offerings, gripping one in each massive claw.

“Quite the haul you brought,” the dragon puffed, “I suppose I did ask for a princess.”

“Are you ready,” the creature asked, glancing back at her rider in earnest.

Every sane part of her screamed at Edelgard to refuse. To run from the beast, to hide in some cave until she could come up with some better plan.

“Yes,” she replied, tightening her grip around the dragon’s neck.

“Very well,” and if dragon’s could smile, Edelgard could have sworn it did just then. But before she could dwell on it, it beat powerful wings and they were in the air. Soaring to unknown destinations.


End file.
